


She's coming up my stairs.

by SkyBlueBanana



Category: Just a horror thing
Genre: Death, Emotional, Gen, Horror, Oneshot, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyBlueBanana/pseuds/SkyBlueBanana
Summary: A boy refuses to sleep, but tonight worries because of the harsh rain outside and his mother and fathers extra kindness. Then he hears it, footsteps in the mud outside.Something was coming for him.





	She's coming up my stairs.

I remember when I was younger,  
my mother would say,  
"be a good boy,  
and don't stay up late.  
If you disobey, my child, she will come,  
and take you to a place without your dear mum."

"Who is she?" I would ask,  
with wonder, no fear.  
She told me of a little girl,  
but she was not mere.  
I thought it was silly,  
even as a child,  
and stayed up anyway,  
completely in denial.

When I was eight,  
there were no phones,  
we had books and lanterns,  
and old itchy clothes.

But that was good enough for us,  
our imaginations big,  
full of dragons, fairies and witches,  
who turned men to pigs.

However one night, as I was up oh so late,  
the eight year old me heard a strange noise from the lake.  
It was raining too hard to make out perfectly,  
but I heard squelches of footprints with absolute certainty. 

Between the harsh rain drops that clicked against the windows glass,  
I could've sworn I heard a pot outside violently smash.

My candle light was flickering,  
as if it wanted to escape,  
I wanted to run away too,  
but I knew it was too late. 

Even as a child my mind held logic,  
I knew it could be anything out there, but I am in a house,  
I should be safe locked in here.

The fairies in my book soared,  
the dragons did roar,  
the princes saved the princesses,  
with their long metal swords.

The rain wouldn't stop clicking, tapping on my window,  
trying to get my attention and coo me over.  
I stayed put, wrapped up in my blankets,  
book in one hand,  
candle in other.

Fear kept an icy grip on my spin,  
sending pricks down the skin in tight, long lines. 

I remember it so clearly,  
a strong metallic scent,  
mixing with the waxy, smoke of the candle on my bed.

It was in my house now,  
my candle was trembling,  
crying wax as the sky roared for me to start escaping.

I set the candle onto my bedside table, and dove under my blankets,  
wanting to hide from the eyes that searched for me in this darkness.

Now I hear it,  
it sounds so close,  
the sticky padding up the stairs,  
the sound I didn't want to hear the most.

It's coming up my stairs.

I peeked my head out,  
from under the rough material,  
only to dive back underneath,  
wanting to escape this potential  serial murderer.

I closed my eyes tight,  
but regretted it as so as I did,  
I saw her coming up my stairs,  
but she was just a little kid. 

However, her face was not human,  
but that of a garden gnome,  
it's hollow eyes staring blankly up at me,  
it's hat like a cone.

I let out a scream,  
ripping off the blankets,  
my eyes opened and I saw her in front of me just standing.

"No no!" I remember crying out.

"Take me when I'm older!  
When I have nothing more.  
When fairies in my books no longer soar,  
when the dragons cease to roar,  
when the princes stop saving their princesses, using their swords. 

When rain stops falling and flames no longer shine.  
When mothers stop caring and children don't lie.  
Take me, when I'm ready to die."

I realise now, she isn't to be feared.  
My mother never told the eight year old me that my death was drawing near. 

She only hugged me goodnight,  
with tears in her eyes,  
thinking this would be my last day alive.  
And father let me read my stories, so I could die with a smile.

The one I begged was death,  
and we made a deal.  
And now as I type this,  
I see her walk closer, toe then heal. 

My fairies won't stop soaring,  
my dragons will roar,  
my princes will save all my princesses,  
with their long metal swords.

Candles with shine and rain will fall,  
even when death knocks at my door.

Mothers will care and children will lie, but nevertheless, I am now ready to die.


End file.
